


I've Got You

by NotoriousHRC



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Billary, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9218327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotoriousHRC/pseuds/NotoriousHRC
Summary: Around 1994: An event occurs causing the family to appreciate all they have.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and decided to post it now! Purely Fiction.

In the middle of a surge of audience applause, the sound of a whizzing bullet slashed through the noise. As soon as the sound pierced her ears, she recoiled, shrinking to the ground. Her chin tucked to her chest and her hands wrapped around her head, huddling behind her podium. Survival instincts kicked in.

After a piercing silence. The crowd in the stadium exploded with gasps and screams. Their heads turned this way and that, searching for the source of the sound. Eventually, they all turned to check their first lady who was now on the ground at her stage and podium.

By the time she hit the floor, secret service was already on top of her, blocking her with their bodies.

“Stay Down!” she heard someone yell through the chaos in the room. “Get Evergreen out!”

Her ears were still ringing and she couldn’t comprehend the situation fast enough. With an arm around her shoulders, she was pulled vertically, only to see the back of another agent in front of her. There were at least six covering all sides. With an arm around her waist, she was practically lifted off her feet. Her group rushed towards their prepared exit while the crowd erupted in confusion and panic.

She was rushed straight to the black SUV directly outside the exit. The door slammed right behind her and the car took off. She jolted backwards against the seat, as she wasn’t properly sitting yet. Her assistant, who was in the seat beside her, helped her sit down and buckle up.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remaining collected.

She took a moment to check herself. “I’m fine.” She rested her head on the back of the head rest.

The agent in the passenger seat turned back to her. “We’re going straight to the plane, Mrs. Clinton.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Reality was beginning to sink in, and her heart pumped faster.

“We’ll do a general fitness test from there and stay in contact with the agents still at the venue.” The agent continued. “Male, dark hair, mid 40’s, we’re still not sure how he passed security, but he has been apprehended. At this point, not sure if there were others involved, so we’re not going back there…”

“Can we go home,” she interrupted. Through his remarks, she felt her stomach churn, eventually settling in a tightly wound knot.

“That is the plan,” he confirmed.

Forcing herself to breath normally, she fell silent.

* * *

 

He held his breath as the helicopter landed on the green. Pacing through the Oval Office, he first caught glimpse of the tail through the window.

“She’s here,” he called as he rushed through the halls. “Chelsea! Where’s Chelsea?” he asked anyone he passed. “Find her and tell her Mom’s here.” He flew down the steps and weaved through the staff working in the entrance hall.

The helicopter steps were already lowered by the time he reached the outside. That didn’t slow his intense pace. He was planning on continuing straight up those steps if he had to; he needed to lay eyes on her.

Right as he contemplated this, she stepped onto the stairs. Same suit as that morning, same hair style, and same patterned scarf, but he immediately noticed the difference in her presence. She wore her mask of strength, but he saw evidence of the mask slipping; an uneasy hand, her steps more calculated, and her bottom lip between her teeth. Her visual appearance wasn’t enough to satisfy him. He picked up his pace.

Upon seeing her husband hasten towards her across the White House lawn, reality hit her. She almost wasn’t allowed to return to this life. An invisible weight seemed to crush her chest, restricting her lungs from functioning. She couldn’t seem to muster the innate ability to inhale. She felt her legs stiffen as she stepped down the first two steps and her hand gripped the hand rail tighter. Her head felt light and she couldn’t find the strength to move any farther.

“Hillary,” he rasped as he finally reached the bottom step.

She stretched her free arm out to him which sent her body pitching forward. Her other arm reached out to brace herself, landing on her husband’s shoulder. The rest of her frame followed that motion, her feet slamming against the steps. He quickly opened his arms, pulling her waist up from its downward path, landing her in his sheltered embrace.

She buried her face in his chest, surrounding herself in his scent, her security. She managed to take in a gulp of air and let it out quickly.

He subconsciously rocked back and forth as he forcefully pressed his cheek on her head. He placed countless kisses on the top of her head. Needing to see her eyes, he lifted her head with his left hand. He didn’t stop his kisses, only moved them over her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and nose. “Thank God,” he managed to say against her skin.

“Bill,” his strong wife almost whimpered.

He cut her off with his lips on hers. Pulling away only a second later, he framed her face with his hands and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Chelsea finally joined them on the lawn and ran immediately to her mother’s side. “Mom!” She wrapped an arm around her back. Hillary turned her focus to her daughter. She managed to move her arms and pulled her daughter into a fast hug. Chelsea held on tight. Bill maneuvered himself so he encircled both his girls.

Chelsea didn’t want to let go. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

She could feel her shoulder becoming damp from Chelsea’s eyes. “I’m fine, Chels,” her mother answered holding her girl tighter. “It’s alright honey, I’m okay.”

Her husband, who knew her better than she knew herself, could tell the exact opposite was true. When Chelsea finally released her mother, Bill tugged his wife to his side once again. Her cheek pressed against his chest and his chin rested on her forehead.

“I’ve got you… You’re okay… I love you,” he whispered.

She was finally able to stabilize her breaths, inhaling and exhaling deeply. She felt blood pumping through her previously petrified limbs. She was finally able to shift her weight from her husband to her own two legs.

“Let’s get you inside,” he suggested. “Past the staff and press.”

She knew what he meant by mentioning the latter. She forced an uplifting smile over her husband’s shoulders, in full view of the gathered press and their cameras. Testing her ability to move her legs, she rocked her knees and toes. Succeeding, she stepped away from her human strength. “I can do it.”

As was their public nature, he took her hand in his and she put her other arm around Chelsea. Him: the all powerful president. Her: the independent, strong, tenacious first lady. Together, they walked towards the White House.

Hillary spotted the press standing a few feet away on the lawn. She mustered another smile and a wave with the thumbs up, signaling she was okay. “Smile, Bill.”

He, also, forced a smile for the press.

They still weren’t safe inside the White House. The staff and press pool circled them wanting to make sure she was okay. Cameras flashed from every direction and the video recorders continued rolling, catching their every move.

“No need to worry everyone!” Bill announced jubilantly as they walked to the family elevator. “Your First Lady is fine. No injuries.”

“Mr. President,” a correspondent tried to catch him with a mic as he walked by. “Is the first lady at all shaken by what happened?”

Bill answered without thinking. “Not at all. She’s the strongest woman I know. In fact, I’m probably more shaken that her.”

And with that as their statement, they reached the elevator and headed to the family rooms.

Alone as a family, they remained silent, flipping another switch in their emotional status: allowing them to be a family with no pretense.

From the movement in the elevator, she began to feel unsteady again. By the time the bell struck, Hillary’s eyes were almost completely fogged over and her head felt light. She saw Chelsea watching her closely. The last thing she wanted to do was scare her daughter with a breakdown. She stroked Chelsea’s arm with her fingers.

She turned to her husband. “Honey…” she whispered into his ear, trying to take a deep breath. “I think I need some help.”

Bill immediately brought his arm under hers and took on all her weight, moving towards their bedroom. She made the motions of walking, without any load on her feet.

Once inside, he sat her down on the plush chair beside their bed; her chin pressed to her chest to try and get the blood pumping again.

“Better?” he asked, still holding onto her hand.

She nodded, feeling the haze lift and her vision return. “May I have some water?”

“I’ll get it.” Chelsea ran out the door to the kitchen.

With her daughter gone, she lost her reason to hold herself together. Her steady breathing went back to irregular gasps, sounding like she just ran a marathon. She felt her stomach churn and she tried to swallow the unpleasant taste accruing in her mouth. She closed her eyes again to focus on staying strong.

As soon as Chelsea left, he knew what to expect. This was her chance to breakdown, to let out her fears and her panic. He saw it in the way her eyes avoided his and how her clammy hand clenched his.

“Hill, honey.” He knelt in front of her, immediately taking her cheeks in his hands. He didn’t force her to look at him, instead he dropped his forehead to hers and took deep, steady breaths.

Her hands gripped his wrists as if he were the only thing holding her together. His warm breath on her skin calmed her, clearing her head and steadying her stomach. Eventually she mirrored his breathing pattern, relaxing even more.

Sensing her composure, he placed his lips on her nose before pulling back.

She turned her head to focus her eyes on the man before her. Finally looking past her own fear, she saw his. His lips were pressed tightly together, his palms sweaty on her neck, and his blinking rapid. She moved her arms to wrap around him and stroke his back.

“It’s okay,” it was her turn to calm him. She watched his sunken eyes, reading them like an open book: ‘She could have died. I may have never seen her again.’

“Shhh,” she quieted his inner storm. “I’m here now. No what ifs.” She moved her head to the side, watching the cracked door. “Chels will be back any moment.”

That was their cue to suck up their emotions and toughen up for their daughter. She took a few more deep breaths and moved her fingers to wipe her eyes. Bill gave her some space, moving another chair beside her, keeping her hand in his. She stretched her body so her head was back against the chair and her legs were straight out in front of her.

“Thank you, Chels,” Hillary said when Chelsea walked in with a glass of water.

Chelsea handed her the glass and stood by, watching her mother drink.

Hillary took a few sips and was feeling better already. The momentary panic had passed. She handed the glass to Bill who placed it on the night table. Chelsea still hovered, trying to put on a tough face but the little girl side of her who clung to her mother was begging to fall into her lap.

Hillary noticed. “Alright Chels, I think I need a movie marathon to buck me back up.” She smiled, watching her daughter brighten up. “Your pick.”

Chelsea thought for a moment before bouncing her knees and announcing, “The Wizard of Oz.”

“Oz?” her father questioned. “I thought you would choose Hocus Pocus again.”

Chelsea jumped towards him with lively feet. She pushed her hands onto her father’s knees and held her weight. “I would, but Oz is mom’s favorite.”

He pressed his lips together and smiled at his daughter, proud of her kindness and consideration. “Oz it is!” He patted her hands before he stood to fetch the movie. “Theater or…”

“Can we watch it here?” Chelsea asked him.

“What ever you want, my girls.” He ruffled her hair. “Do you want any snacks?”

“Yes!” She answered immediately. “Popcorn and a soda, please and thank you.”

Her daughter’s enthusiasm already did its part to lift Hillary’s spirits. “You heard her. Two popcorns and two sodas.”

“I’ll be back in no time.” He exited with a runner’s arm movement, making the girls chuckle.

15 minutes later, he returned with a tray full of popcorn drinks and the VHS balanced on top. He walked in to see his wife and daughter sitting on the edge of their bed with their pajamas on. Chelsea wore a purple silky pajama set with flowers all over. Hillary wore a white clean cotton button up top and pants.

“We’re ready!” Chelsea jumped from the bed, running to grab the food.

“I didn’t know I was so overdressed,” he proclaimed after looking over their wardrobe choices.

“Dad,” Chelsea scolded. “It’s a movie day. Pajamas are a requirement.”

He let out a mock gasp. “Well then give me one moment.”

He stepped into their walk in closet.

Hillary sat on the bed, delighting in Chelsea’s interactions with her dad. She was surprised to see him appear in his flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. “You don’t have any other work to do?” she asked.

He stopped in his tracks. “Well if you want to get rid of me, just say so.”

“No!” she quickly corrected. “I just didn’t think you could afford to get away.”

He walked closer to her and leaned down, pressing his fists into the mattress on either side of her. “I can always afford time for my girls.” With that devotion and promise, he kissed her forehead. “Now lets start this movie.”

Chelsea climbed onto her mom’s side of the bed and Hillary slid into the middle immediately wrapping her arm around her daughter. Bill moved to the tv, placed the tape into the recorder, and pressed play. With the opening credits rolling, he climbed in beside his wife.

“Everyone have popcorn?” They held up their bowls in affirmation. With them taken care of, he raised his arm around his wife and settled in beside her while stealing a handful of her popcorn.

Hillary wiggled her torso, adjusting to the warm body now supporting her. She tilted her head to his ear. “Any news?”

He should have known she would ask. “It seems to be a lone man, no outside conspiracies at this time.” He moved his hand to her shoulder and pressed into the tense muscle. “They are still looking into his background.”

She nodded, letting out an audible exhale.

He brought his lips to her temple. “But you’re safe now, love. I’ve got you.” He said it as much for her benefit as for his.

She nodded, sinking deeper into his shoulder and reveling in her beloved family.


End file.
